Winning You Back
by M.R. Potter
Summary: Hermione has an affair, convinced that Sirius no longer finds her attractive. Sirius is determined to set things right between them and he wins her over with the best way he knows how. Fluffy, lemony oneshot.


A/N: Lemony, fluffy oneshot. This is what happens when you are supposed to be studying but end up reading fantastic fan fiction instead. You get inspired to write your own stuff! Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Nope, not my characters. Plotline's mine though.

Sirius watched her from across the room. The fireplace threw a soft orange glow on her face burnishing her brown hair into bronze. Her fingers tapered around the stem of a wine glass, the last few sips of wine lingering at the bottom. Her long legs were crossed and she leaned back on his leather chair. She was as still as a portrait but very much lifelike.

There were creases on her forehead from frowning. Her mouth with a perfect bow shape was turned down and stained slightly from the wine. She was chewing on her bottom lip like she was nervous but he knew she did that when she was thinking. Years of living with her had attuned him to her habits but now he was afraid that he would only have those habits to remember on in the future.

This was the closest they'd been in proximity in the last three months. Before now Hermione had insisted on living at the Burrow with Ginny and Harry while Sirius lived alone in his cavernous home at 12 Grimmauld Place. She couldn't look at him, she said.

A log crackled in the fireplace. The glowing sparks flew towards her like pixie dust and she shifted position in the chair. She did it so elegantly, like a proper heiress. He nearly forgot to breathe. How on earth could he have ever stopped paying attention to his beautiful wife?

He had just gotten a job at the Department of Mysteries, heading a research team on the properties of the Veil he had been suspended in. Long hours at the research lab were to be expected but Hermione understood everything, being a senior editor at the Daily Prophet herself. What she did not understand though, was how her husband lost interest in her. It came slowly, like forgetting to kiss her goodbye when he left for work and only became glaringly obvious when he showed complete disinterest in their previously prolific sex life. Therapists all said the same thing, that he was simply too busy at work and that he needed to take time off to be with Hermione again. But Sirius was too enthralled with unlocking the mysteries of the Beyond, just happy to be a part of something again. He thought that he had lost it forever when the Marauders had broken up, but he was starting to find it again in his work.

Initially Hermione just let it slide. If it made him happy, then she shouldn't interfere. Loving someone meant making his or her happiness a priority over your own, she always told herself. But one day, she had completely lost the line where her own happiness mattered at all because she kept making more and more excuses for her husband's blatant disinterest in her. He never complimented her anymore, not when she put on a nice outfit or did her hair. He wasn't home for dinner, only remembering to call when she was about to slip into bed. Often he was gone by the time she woke up in the morning, so she would end up making breakfast for one person.

It was when Sirius had rejected her offer to make love that snapped her. She had dressed up in a sexy black corset and garters with stockings and walked up to Sirius' study to seduce him. He had been reading a book when she stood in the doorway. She had looked so beautiful that night, brown curls falling over her shoulders provocatively and her breasts thrust up from the confines of the corset. "Sirius," she called in a husky voice.

He looked up from his book and took her in. Didn't say anything.

She held a hand out to him, hips swaying and head tilted to the side in a silent invitation. "Make love to me," she said, pleading him with her eyes. He looked at her, then at his book. Then back at her. "Hermione love, I'm so sorry. I promised Fedwick that I'd have the material down by tomorrow morning so we could work on something new. Another night maybe?"

The words were perfectly formed, but the message behind them seared like a curved sword through her heart. He thought his work was more attractive than she was. He would rather read through a boring old book than make love with her, his wife! Was she really so unattractive? Hermione remembered going to bed crying that night, not even bothering to take off the outfit. The next morning found Sirius' side of the bed untouched as he had fallen asleep in his study.

After that night, she took the outfit back to the store to return it, eyes still puffy from crying. The saleslady didn't say anything to her but she knew everything that had happened. Hermione took her refund and spent it on a fancy lunch for herself where she ran into Dean Thomas. He told her that she had looked good and it made her feel better. Her husband hadn't told her that in ages and it stroked her ego to hear it at all. Maybe she wasn't so unattractive.

She and Dean had an affair. She didn't really love him of course, but she craved hearing how beautiful she was, how attractive. She wanted his lips roaming her body if only to imagine that they were Sirius', worshiping her form. She needed the assurance that she was a desirable woman; never mind if someone else was assuring her. Sirius was not going to give it to her, and Dean was more than willing to tell her.

It had been Harry and Ginny's intervention that ended the affair. Harry intercepted her as she was on her way to Dean's house and brought her to the Leaky Cauldron for a proper talking-to. At first she had been upset that he was sticking his nose into her business, telling him that it was none of his concerns what she was or wasn't supposed to be doing. But as she slowly got more Butterbeers into her, she began to tell Harry everything. She told him of her hurt and anger, and how much she wanted to hurt Sirius. Harry countered by saying that Sirius probably did not know what was going on, and if she walked out the door to go to Dean's he was going to tell him. Naturally Hermione left her drink and Apparated to Dean's. They spent the afternoon making frantic love on every surface on Dean's house, but Hermione still could not shake off what could possibly happen if Harry had gone through with his threat.

Just as they were in Dean's lounge making out on his couch, the door bell rang. When Dean got up to answer it, Sirius stood on the other side looking grim. He quietly asked for his wife, which Dean quickly complied with. He had never shaken the image of Sirius as a mass murderer and was apt to give Hermione up out of fear. Sirius had Apparated them home where he left her in the lounge while he went into the kitchen to get them both a glass of wine.

Now they were seated on far ends of the lounge, unspeaking. Harry had come to him that afternoon telling him of his wife's affair with Dean. It hadn't shocked him as much as when Harry suggested that Hermione probably was sick of him not paying attention to her. He did not remember any such occasion, he snapped back.

Harry then proceeded to regurgitate everything that Hermione had told him, watching as his godfather's expression turned from tanned to ashen. Sirius could not say a word, listening to everything Harry said in sheer disbelief. He loved his work, yes, but there was no way that it would ever be better than Hermione. She was his life, his love and everything that he needed in life. How had he been so inconsiderate?

"She's at Dean's right now. I suggest that you go over there and try to win her back," Harry said, patting Sirius on the back before leaving.

Hermione shifted position again on the chair and finished her wine. "More wine Hermione?" he asked her. She nodded, not looking at him. He stood to refill her glass. "Hermione, look at me. Please," he said, coming down to kneel next to her.

"I'm not angry at you," he said, putting his hands in her lap. She looked down at his hands. "Why not?" she asked. He lifted the wine glass out of her hand and set it on the floor next to the bottle of wine. He moved slowly to lace their fingers together, cautious not to scare her off. "I deserved it," he simply said. When she did not try to pull her hands away he lifted them to his lips and kissed her fingers one by one.

Hermione's breathing deepened, like she wanted to say something but didn't. More silence. He looked up at her slowly and saw her clenched jaw. He reached up to kiss it gently, tried to soothe the tension that was there. She didn't respond to that, she sat as still as a statue. He drew back and put a chaste kiss on her lips. Still nothing. He kissed her again softly, then again a little more deeply. He started to worry.

"Kiss me back darling, please," he begged her. She turned her head away from him. How she hated the entreaty in his voice. She didn't want to reject him, but she wanted to stay loyal to her hurt. Her neck was facing him now and he kissed that, just below her jaw line. Her breath caught sharply in her neck; the brush of his lips felt so good against the skin there. Better than Dean's had ever felt. Her own body was now turning traitor against her.

"Hermione, please look at me. Harry told me everything. Why couldn't you come to me?" he asked, speaking against her throat. His voice vibrated against her skin and it felt so good. All she wanted was to tilt her head back and have him ravish the skin there. "You were always more interested in your work," she managed.

He looked at her and saw her brown eyes looking straight at him. It was his turn to turn breathless. Those brown eyes saw everything, all his faults and best points, all his weaknesses and regrets. But now they just looked blank. "I realise that Hermione. But you need to understand that I am crazy about you. I'm sorry if I ever made you feel that you couldn't come to me or that I'd lost interest in you but I swear, there is nothing in this world more attractive to me than you," he said.

"Why don't I believe you?" she asked.

If there was one thing Sirius recognised as surely as his own reflection, it was a challenge. It was an unspoken one with her, and one he knew he would – and could – meet. His roguish charm came on as he reared up to look at her again, this time with a faint smirk on his face.

"If you don't believe what I tell you, then I might as well show you eh?" he said. Her eyes widened, but he didn't give her time to protest as he scooped her off her seat and carried her to their room. Her face was turned away from his, looking like a petulant child. "Sirius, you can't resolve everything with sex," she told him when they reached their bedroom. He reverently put her down on her feet and gazed on her. "Do you remember that night you came to me and asked me to make love to you? You were wearing that sexy outfit," he said.

She turned red and looked down at the floor. Of course she remembered that night. That was when she felt least like a woman. "How could I forget? You embarrassed me," she replied. She felt his hand on her chin, tilting her head up. He lowered his head slowly, giving her time to pull away. When she didn't, he brushed a careful kiss across her lips. "Let me make it up to you," he said, his grey eyes boring into hers.

Her brain went to arms against her heart. It told her that she shouldn't give in to him too easily, that she was going to regret it in the morning. Her heart however, was telling her to ignore her brain for once and just go for it. Her husband wanted to make amends, and he was sorry for hurting her feelings. What more did she want?

"Please don't think Hermione. Just feel," he begged her. He kissed her deeply and felt his heart race when she put her arms around his neck and kissed him back. It was as if he found an oasis in the Sahara. Her mouth was warm and responsive against his and their tongues danced.

"Do you want this love? Don't feel like you have to do this," he murmured against her lips. She stopped kissing him and looked into his eyes. "I don't know what I want Sirius. I want you, but I don't know if I should," she said. Her hand came to lightly tug on his shirt. "Maybe I shouldn't," she said, not missing the disappointment in his eyes. His hands started to fall away from her body when he held them to his heart. "Feel that love? It only beats that way for you. I'm sorry if I haven't been the most attentive husband to you. I hope you understand that nothing will ever be more important than you," he said.

"You don't seem to care that I've been with Dean," she said, looking at his chest and feeling weak all over again when she saw the fine outline of muscle looking back at her.

He kissed her fingers. "That's what I told you, but really love I'm going crazy here. There isn't a cell in my body that doesn't want to pound his face into the ground. It drives me insane that another man touched you…" He stroked her waist. "…Kissed you…" He brushed his lips against her neck. "…And made you scream their name as you came. I want that man to be me. Only me. And I will never give you reason to look for somebody else again Hermione. I love you," he said.

She took a breath then looked up into his grey eyes. Sirius didn't give her a chance to respond because he crushed his mouth against hers. She responded with equal fervour, kissing him back. He lifted her up around her waist so she was now above him. Her hands went around his face, holding it to hers as her tongue sought his hungrily. Sirius walked them over to their bed and he laid her down on it slowly. Her hair fanned out across the peach-coloured sheets and he took a moment to look at her. Her eyes were a brown deeper than chocolate and more appealing, albeit slightly unfocused. Her strawberry pink mouth had a perfect dip on the top lip and fully pouting lower lip. There was a flush on her cheeks and she was breathing heavily. He saw her raise her head and kiss him again.

Their hands weren't idle. She started reaching below for the hem of his shirt, which she pulled off over his head. She had all of two seconds to stare at the muscled expanse of his body before he captured her mouth in a kiss. His hands unbuttoned her white oxford-style shirt and peeled it from her body. His fingers brushed against lace and he looked down to see that she was clad in a sinfully red lace bra. He tore it from her body in one motion. "So you won't wear it again," he explained, taking in her shocked expression. "It was expensive," she mumbled.

"I'll buy you a thousand more," he told her. "I don't want to think that he saw you in that." He kissed her once more before peppering kisses down her throat and chest. Her breasts were not forgotten. He showered each one with kisses and nibbles, swirling his tongue over each rosy nipple. Her back arched off the bed and she gasped his name each time he did it. There was a mole between her breasts; that didn't miss his attentions. He kissed it gently and ran his tongue over it. Her moans were becoming more breathy now, and it was encouraging him forward.

He kissed his way down her stomach and without looking, took her slacks and panties off, leaving her in her black hold-up stockings. When his palms made contact with the sleek nylon he looked down and saw what he was touching. "Not the stockings please Sirius, I like those," she begged him. He nuzzled her inner thigh, right where the top of the left one was. "It's alright, I like them too. But they need to come off now, I want you completely naked for me," he said. He used his teeth to gently unroll them to her knee then he slipped it off. He did the same for the other one, kissing her ankle when it came free.

She was now completely naked on their bed, breathing heavily and trying her best to look at him through unfocused eyes. She was a vision, but nothing so imaginary. Her skin glowed in the dull light and her lips were slightly parted. He brushed a soft kiss across her mouth and spoke into her neck. "Hermione, let me make love to you. Please," he begged her.

Hermione looked up at him. Her brain had thrown in the towel because obviously she wasn't going to listen. Somehow she knew that it felt right and the doubtful voice in her head had dulled in volume. She nodded and then looked away. "Tell me that you want this," he said. "I want you to make love to me Sirius," she automatically repeated, afraid to listen to herself. She felt him smile into her neck. "I can wait, don't worry. If you don't want it, it can wait another night…"he said, rearing back to leave her. The sudden rush of cold air snapped her back to consciousness and she arched up to grab his neck and pull him to her for a rough kiss. "There is no fucking way that you are leaving me hanging this time Sirius," she growled into his mouth.

It was the spark started off the fireworks. They exploded in a flurry of motion, lips caressing, teeth nibbling, hands pulling at what was left of Sirius' clothing. They didn't even slow down when they were naked, hot skin sliding across the cotton sheets. Sirius separated from her lips to kiss a way down from her neck to her navel. She realised what he was going to do, so she started to clamp her legs together. "Sirius, that's really not necessary, it's fine…" she said, but was overpowered by Sirius planting his mouth directly on her warm sex and flicking his tongue out once. All thought she had of refusing him spilled out of her mouth to form his name. "Sirius!" she breathed.

His tongue flicked around the sensitive pink nub, circled it several times and teased it with the flat of his tongue. It dipped into her entrance to tease her before moving back up to her clit. All the while, she was squirming beneath him, hips arching up and down. His hands held her down as he hummed against her sensitised skin and moved his head back and forth to graze across her nerves. That drove her mad and she moaned gutturally. He slipped a finger into her, stroking her moist heat for a while before inserting another finger and curling against the rough bundle at her core. That earned him Hermione calling his name out and her clawing at the sheets. He set up a rough pace that made her hips arch up and down in time with his rhythm and eventually coming loudly and hard. She was still coming down from her high when he kissed his way back up her body and kissed her forehead. "That was incredible," she breathed.

He shrugged. "Maybe. But you didn't scream my name out, that's what I wanted to hear," he said, grinning devilishly at her. "So, I figure I have to keep going until you do," he whispered in her ear before nipping at it. She groaned and turned towards him. He captured her mouth softly, resting his hand on the curve of her waist. They stayed like that for a while, just kissing. It had been a while since they did just that. Their tongues learned each other again, they shared the same breath and their heartbeats had slowed down so that they were nearly beating in time with each other.

Hermione ran her fingers through Sirius' hair and rolled over so she straddled him. She lifted herself up so that he was looking up at her, and he found the sight beautiful. Her skin had flushed and her hair made her look positively wanton, tousled around her face and shoulders. Her eyes had a satisfied glint but her full, sensual mouth remained sombre. Sirius reached up to cup her waist, doing nothing but just looking at this beautiful goddess, wondering how lucky he was to have claimed her and how stupid he had been to think that anything else could be more important than her.

"What are you thinking?" he asked, stroking her waist.

"How I can never seem to stay angry at you. I can't believe how weak I am where you're concerned," she said, looking away. He sat up to cradle her in his lap and to look her in the face. " I will never hurt you again Hermione. I of all people should know how vulnerable you are when it comes to your feelings; it was wrong of me to disregard them. Please, can you ever forgive me?" he said, putting his forehead against hers, begging.

She pulled her head back to look at him. She knew he was genuinely sorry and did not mean to hurt her, and in her heart she knew that she could trust him with her heart again. She rested her forehead against his. "There is nothing to forgive Sirius," she whispered against his mouth before she kissed him lightly.

Hermione knew he would never admit it, but she swore she saw tears well up in his eyes. He peppered her face with light kisses, nose, ears and eyelids. "Gods, how I love you Hermione," he murmured. Her neck and shoulders received similar attention, and it wasn't long before she was straining towards him, seeking more fulfilment than he was offering.

He laid his arms around her waist and lifted her so she was positioned right over his tip. Her hand reached between them to guide him to her entrance and their eyes locked as she slid over him, stretching to accommodate his width and length. It was the most sensual experience they ever shared, where every breath was felt between them and the slightest contraction a tidal wave to them both. They set up a rocking pace, instinctively knowing just how fast to go. Their hips rocked against each other in perfect time, breathing in sync, going faster and faster until…

The stars rained down on both of them and the moon spilled silvery light into their little universe. The quiet staccato of creaking bedsprings was broken by Hermione crying out Sirius' name in a sharp allegro as she reached her peak and the faintest cry by Hermione as she reached her peak. Sirius followed soon after, burying his face into her neck as they rode out the last of their climax.

Their fiery encounter had dulled down to a glowing ember of cuddles and light kissing. Sirius had his arm firmly around her waist as he occasionally nibbled on the back of her neck or the juncture of her neck and shoulders. It never failed to elicit a moan from her.

"Hermione love,"

"Yes?"

"I'm taking the day off tomorrow. I don't care what Fedwick says, I'm going to spend tomorrow in bed with my beautiful wife, recounting all the ways that she makes the breath stop in my chest when I see her walk into a room," he said, nuzzling her neck. She arched against him and lightly raked her nails across his arm.

"I think I like that idea very much," she sighed, settling deeper into his arms. Sirius planted a kiss in her hair, thanking whatever deity was listening for helping him succeed in winning back the love of his life, hoping that the same deity would never allow him to make the same mistake ever again.

He had won her over, but the prize far outweighed the challenge. Thank gods for that.


End file.
